224 LESSONS FROM NATURE. [CHAP. VII. 



complex aggregations so as to act independently of intel 

 ligence. Moreover, even where actions are distinctly at 

 tended to and deliberately willed, all the several nervous 

 and muscular acts which condition such actions are performed 

 unconsciously and involuntarily. 



A striking and very complete demonstration of the 

 difference between sense-perception and thought has been 

 presented by a distinguished writer in the Dublin Review &quot; 

 as follows : 



&quot;Let it be supposed that I am the spectator of a great battle. 

 Posted upon the vantage ground of a lofty tower, I see it begin, con 

 tinue, and come to an end. Early in the morning, whilst the rays of 

 the summer sun are yet slanting nearly level across the plain below, 

 one host is coming on and massing its battalions where the slight rise 

 of the ground meets the sky. Opposite to it is the vast irregular semi 

 circle of the enemy, half hidden in dips and hollows, one flank resting 

 upon a wood, and a broad high road running through the centre of 

 his position. The battle begins with the advance of a strong division 

 on one side, and a heavy fire of shells from batteries of both the armies. 

 The advancing forces are met by others; the sharp cracking and 

 rattling of the rifles mingles with the roar of the cannon ; more forces 

 engage ; the battle is general all along the line. The noise and tho 

 smoke confuse the spectator. There is a retreat, advance, flight, first 

 on one part of the field, then on another. Bodies of troops are broken, 

 the dead begin to strew the field, and the bearers of the wounded pass 

 swiftly between the battle and the rear. Brilliant masses of cavalry 

 thunder down upon bright lines of bayonets, that wither them with far- 

 reaching death. Officers gallop hither and thither ; the reserves come 

 up ; shouts as of victory are heard, and with a general advance of one 

 army, the other is driven back, broken, put to flight, slain, or taken, 

 until the wave of war seems to pass away over the sky-line from 

 whence in the morning the attack had been made. The sun sets and 

 the moon rises upon reek, blood, dead and dying men, plunderers, 

 slowly vanishing smoke, and what seems like silence. All this scene 

 I have taken in with my senses. Complicated as it has been, I have 

 followed it with accuracy, estimated distances and velocities correctly, 

 and formed a fair impression of what has actually been transacted. 

 What is more than this, I have that scene with me still, although it is 

 past never to return. I can recall it on the following day, a year after, 

 now. And when I recall it, it seems to be the same in its details as 

 when I saw it. The battle-field comes back to me with its apparent 



* See the Number for July 1871, vol. xvii. pp. 26-34. 



